


Pressure

by M3m3mnt0M0r1



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Bad Decisions, Character Study, Explicit Language, F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Late Night Conversations, Name-Calling, Non-Abusive Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan, Non-Despair Enoshima Junko, Pre-Relationship, Sane Enoshima Junko, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M3m3mnt0M0r1/pseuds/M3m3mnt0M0r1
Summary: Tsumiki takes a few deep breaths, then answers her in a stable voice. "There's, um, please don't be mad at me," Junko narrows her eyes. Did the nurse not hear her tone thirty seconds ago?  She opens her mouth, about to urge the woman to stop stalling, when Tsumiki finishes her sentence. "A corpse in my kitchen."***In which a panicked Tsumiki calls a frustrated Enoshima with a favor to ask.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on "Pressure"! I wanted to mess around with their dynamic and this happened. Hope you enjoy!

Enoshima Junko's phone vibrates soon after she sets it down for the night. Probably a Google alert; People did say they would release that interview some time this week. She pulls a sleep mask down over her eyes. She'll check it tomorrow. While knowing people's opinions is part of the job for a public figure, she needs her beauty sleep. It's a lot of work maintaining a model's condition--sleep being one of the most important factors. Besides, she has PR people to deal with any potential scandals or dips in popularity. 

It's when her phone buzzes for a solid minute that she sighs. She pushes the mask upward to rest in her hair. It better not be that hospital again; she told them a million times--she'd offer free, anonymous consultations so long as they respected her hours. The second they disrespected that rule, she would rescind her services. Junko extends an arm to snatch the device off of her nightstand, then clicks the lock button. The screen lights up to reveal a text and a missed call from a random number. Crazed fan perhaps?

The text only reads: "Please help". What the fuck? There's a voicemail too. She lifts a finger to unlock her phone and listen to it, but the number calls again. This should be interesting.

"Hello--"

"E-enoshima-san!" Huh. It's a chick. And she's hyperventilating. Oh joy. 

"Who the fuck is interrupting my beauty sleep?"

"E-enoshima-san! I-i'm Tsu-tsumiki Mikan--"

"You're that babe from the hospital who was like, totally checking me out!" The heavy breathing stops. Junko can visualize the nurse's raised eyebrow through the silence.

"I, uh, suppose Enoshima-san." Tsumiki is breathing and speaking slower now, focused on answering Junko's remark. She inhales, then continues. "I a-pologize for calling...so late--"

"Mhm, sure ya do, slut." Silence again. Junko rolls her eyes. The poor girl startles way too easy. She prods. "I'm awake, so whaddya want?" Nothing. She sighs. "Bitch, if you don't put on your big girl britches and answer my goddamn question, I'm hanging up and blocking you."

"No no no, please. I need you, Enoshima-san. You're the only one I can talk to." Now this is interesting. One, it implies that Tsumiki's problem--whatever it is--is so convoluted and specific that only Japan's top model can solve it. If so, then any intellectual stimulus provided should outweigh the consequences of lost time. "Enoshima-san?" Two, it gives Junko a sense of importance that fulfills that oh-so-prominent god complex; she's the determinant of Tsumiki's fate. Should she be a sympathetic savior or a damning devil?

"ENOSHIMA-SAN!" Junko scrunches her face up. 

"Stop shrieking. You sound like a goddamn banshee." A beat of quiet. Then sniffles. Junko rolls her eyes and mouths "Fuck me." The sniffles intensify, and now Tsumiki is sobbing. This bitch has the backbone of wet paper. 

"I'm s-s-sorryyyyyyy." She babbles. "Puh-please for-give meeeeee." Junko presses the palm of her hand to her face. The nerve of this bitch. At another time, perhaps during daytime hours, the model would be more patient and forgiving. She might even entertain this little charade. But this attention whore decided to whine during do-not-disturb hours, and Junko's too tired to play nice. 

"What's your problem?" 

The sobs die down a little. "Wha-t?"

"You fuck up my sleep schedule and claim I'm the only one who can help you. Then you have the goddamn audacity to waste even more of my time by whining like a little bitch instead of telling me whatever the fuck is up. So I repeat: what's your problem?" Junko taps her nails on her phone case, raising and dropping each digit individually. 

Tsumiki takes a few deep breaths, then answers her in a stable voice. "There's, um, please don't be mad at me," Junko narrows her eyes. Did the nurse not hear her tone thirty seconds ago? She opens her mouth, about to urge the woman to stop stalling, when Tsumiki finishes her sentence. "A corpse in my kitchen." 

Junko chokes on air. She didn't expect Nurse Joy to have a body count. Or the stomach to kill someone. Wait, that's jumping to conclusions. Tsumiki's wording was ambiguous--she simply stated a corpse is in her kitchen. She did not say how it got there, or how it died. Hell, she didn't specify if the thing was human. The decision to use such vague diction should be noted. Proceed with caution.

Junko snorts into the phone. "You better not be shitting me. This is something I wanna see."

Tsumiki brightens. "R-really?" Then her voice returns to its jittery whisper. "I am not sh..." She pauses on the curse. "Kidding you." Not a fan of profanity, it would seem. Junko waits for her to continue. "Um, anyway." Her voice strengthens. "There's a corpse in my kitchen and I don't know what to do with it."

Junko raises an eyebrow. "And you think I have a fucking clue?"

Tsumiki hesitates, taking time to structure her thoughts. "In all honesty, I had thought you had some experience with this kind of thing. No offense, Enoshima-san, but it seemed up your alley." 

"I'm a model who does medical consultations on the side. What about that suggests I know to get rid of a body?"

"The 'medical consultation' part. Since, you know, the human body with its organs and tissues are, um, studied." Tsumiki allows a silence for Junko to respond. She doesn't. "In the medical field." The nurse concludes. 

Junko pushes back her cuticles. So it is a human corpse. "Bullshit. You're a nurse, for fuck's sake. Say what you mean, skank." Tsumiki wants attention, plain and simple. She doesn't go about it healthily: her revolving door of emotions indicates she values both positive and negative attention, while her hesitance to speak concisely functions as a social lure; the person talking with her has to initiate conversation, implying an interest in what the nurse has to say, in order to have any meaningful conversation. Most likely, the attention-seeking behaviors manifested as the result of chronic trauma. Which may be related to the corpse Tsumiki has in her kitchen. 

Perhaps Junko's earlier designation of "crazed fan" was correct. 

Still, the challenge of getting rid of a body without her security discovering she's left her apartment sounds enticing. She's a little miffed it isn't on her bucket list. Especially since she's been contemplating "get away with murder" as an entry. 

The nurse sucks in a breath. Then she becomes a motormouth. "I stabbed my boyfriend about twenty times because after five years of beatings enough was enough before dialing your number because it was the first number that came to mind besides the police which I obviously couldn't call and you're the only person I trust to help me with this since you're the only person who has the slightest interest in my health and well-being so please, Enoshima-san." She takes another breath. "Please. Help me."

The model smiles. "Was that so hard? Now then, what's your address?" Beauty sleep can wait. Enoshima Junko has a date with a mentally-unstable murderer. Who happens to have a nice ass. Now, to escape her apartment...

**Author's Note:**

> What'd y'all think? Did I get their characters right? Should I continue this? I have some ideas for a second part...Thanks for reading, and have a nice day!


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